


The Eight Princes Of The Southern Isles

by mhs0501



Series: Hansoff Saga [8]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Anger, Gay Marriage, Gen, Good Hans, Hans Being Less of an Asshole, Hans Has Fire Powers, I Finally Got Sven In This Fandom, Implied Sexual Content, Kristoff basically dressing up to impress Hans's Brothers, M/M, Meeting the Family, Minor Swearing, Multi, Peasant Shaming, Royalty, Shoes, Silly me, Stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 22:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7776940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhs0501/pseuds/mhs0501
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a date set, Thomas decides to invite the remaining eight brothers back to the Southern Isles Palace for Kristoff and Hans' wedding... much to their chagrin. With eight different brothers comes eight different pains, but blood is thicker than water-- right?</p><p>I suck at titles. Hansoff Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Eight Princes Of The Southern Isles

**Author's Note:**

> God I miss this fandom and pairing. I needed a break to right something cute and lighthearted. I also hope this gets the continuity right, because it took me long enough. Also, Sven is in this fic... I don't know why I didn't include him from the beginning. Anyway, enjoy!

Kristoff was never one to get angry at things. He was never one to allow his temper to hold free reign over his mind and body. He wasn’t one to lash out at people and frankly was level-headed enough to begin with. Even though there were multiple times he could’ve and in some cases would be in the right for doing so, he simply didn’t do it. It wasn’t his way.

 

The fact that he was fuming over his soon to be ten other brother in laws was a bit out of character. He easily could’ve pictured Hans in the spot he was. Of the two of them Hans was the one more victimized by his older siblings as he always had been since his isolation. Whenever Kristoff happened to stick around for those oh so few minutes during brotherly gatherings he felt a familiar warmth to the room glow like a stoked fire that he’d grown accustomed to through the months. Usually an encounter with any of his brothers much less ten of them required much restraint and self control to the point where the thirteenth prince literally collapsed from exhaustion the following night with nothing but a weary Kristoff to massage the feeling back into his curled up fists.

 

He suddenly felt himself slowing down in the hallway and stopping, his weight shifting towards the wall until his back pressed against it as hard as he could possibly allow it to. It was as though a strong, magnetic force held him against the patterned wallpaper and white wood paneling. Kristoff felt his hand drifting to his eyes and squeezed them shut as tight as he could, breathing a deep sigh into his palms and trying to forget what they’d said.

 

He tried to remind himself that the situation was temporary. He tried to tell himself as soon as the wedding was through and finished the eight royal pains would disappear like a trail of wispy smoke and with best luck never return. He tried to believe that this was all he’d need to be bothered about during such a joyous occasion, but the simple truth was that they still had a long road ahead in terms of facing the world as they were. And as much as Kristoff had reassured Hans he would be ready to take on whatever the world said, he didn’t have a title or powers to hide behind. To the world and to them, he was more than a peasant. He was a target.

 

Shortly after the prince's nose had healed itself courtesy of Dr. Kron and hours of Kristoff cramping his arm in holding a bag of ice over his fiance's face, Thomas announced the next morning without any form of advance warning that he had invited their ten brothers to the wedding should they wish to come. This was a surprise the prince had apparently not been ready to hear as his glass and toast burned out of existence the moment the king had announced it. Kristoff, although not having any specific give away to his feelings, crossed his fingers beneath the table as he asked what Hans most certainly didn’t want to.

 

“Why would they come back?” He questioned as the ashes of the prince's breakfast danced around the large wooden table, the custom oak patterns darkening with his mood.

 

Thomas sighed. “I don’t really know. They all seemed quite eager to leave this kingdom for dead once Hans let loose his powers.” Hans grumbled something from his place at the table like a child with a plate of bitter greens set before him. “Hans, I’m sorry.” Thomas offered. “I know you haven’t exactly had a good relationship with our brothers but they’re family.”

 

Hans snorted angrily. “We were never invited to any of their weddings.”

 

“And that bothers you?” Thomas almost laughed.

 

“What bothers me about this is that I already have enough going on with the wedding, the council meeting, and my other plans. They obviously don’t think I’m family. They think I’m the little bastard runt and they’ve never been shy about showing it.”

 

“We were kids, Hans. Cut us some slack. It’s not like mother ever paid them any attention with you being our biggest priority.” He shrugged.

 

Hans groaned “And that’s just it, Thomas. They treated me like what I thought I was. They played to my fears and had fun out of it. Do you honestly think any of that’s changed?”

 

He raised his eyebrows and took a sip from his mug. “If not, you know you can remind them of the ace up your sleeve.”

 

And while Thomas had given Hans full permission to demonstrate his powers to his brothers should they choose to resort to their old antics, he’d decided the best route to rebuild what he could was to conceal it- more for their sake than his -for the duration of the evening. For the first time in a long time, he’d donned his gloves and tugged them tight. He’d handled it the hour before with an impressive amount of control that Kristoff had watched from his side of the bed. However, his true feelings were thinly veiled.  

 

He’d faced his mirror, face hard and cold like the harbor rocks. Waves of silent blush came to his pale cheeks every few seconds as he’d slid the soft material along his fingers and down his palms. He didn’t look at them. He didn’t want to acknowledge the twinges of cold sweat that worked down his lower back at their soft touch. He didn’t want to relive the anger, the _fear_. Instead he focused in his wide eyes, as if attempting a pointless staring contest with his reflection in an effort to ignore the feeling of his childhood that was forever immortalized in two pieces of gray, velveteen fabric. Kristoff had set his record book for sales down and got up from the bed, his clothes plain for the time being as Anita was busy retailoring one of his older suits. Hans stood in his best, arms rigid and angled at an accuracy most great ancient structures couldn’t match. His limpid brown eyes broke from the mirror as he saw the ice cutter coming towards him.

 

Kristoff’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, his head peering over his shoulder and scanning his prince from that vantage point. A small grin twitched at his lips. “You know, you don’t have to do this.”

 

Hans huffed. “Yes I do. It’s not like I can just run off and create another eternal heatwave.”

 

“Mmhmm.” He acknowledged. “I wouldn’t mind that. We could just go up to your palace, take a few days off.”

 

The prince matched his grin. “Maybe afterwards.” He answered with a small sigh. “But for now, I’ll just have to grin and bear it.”

 

Kristoff chuckled. “You mean _we_ just have to.” He planted a kiss on his cheek from over his fiance’s shoulder.

 

Hans broke free and turned to face the blonde. “Are you sure you want to do this? I’m pretty sure you aren’t looking forward to this meeting either.”   

 

“Well I’m not saying I’ll greet them with warm hugs,” He answered knowing Ashley would more than likely want to cover that department, should she be in attendance. “But I’ll try to keep myself under control.”

 

“You’re not the one who needs to stay under control.” Hans deadpanned, heat building beneath the barrier of his gloves. Kristoff relinquished his grip around his shoulders and held his princes hands, the warm becoming duller and slightly more comforting.

 

“We both know if your powers get loose, they’ll have had it coming. You don’t need to worry about this, Hans. I promise,” He kissed his forehead, parting the auburn bangs. “Your brothers will know better.”

 

A wry and mirthless laugh came from Hans as they hugged. “I can only hope so.” A moment of silence passed them by.  

 

“Now,” Kristoff broke the embrace. “You were saying you had a surprise for me tonight?” Hans nodded and held his hand up. Ash materialized and glimmered as it collected in clumps. The particles smoothed and flattened, gaining a familiar shape to them. Clasped between his thumb and fingers was a pair of boots. Kristoff raised an eyebrow at them after studying the footwear for only a moment. “What are those?” He gestured to the bottom.

 

“Heels.” He offered with a tiny, almost mischievous flash of teeth.

 

“You expect me to wear those.” He answered with a tone of sarcasm, immediately hoping this was some kind of joke. Unfortunately for him, Hans nodded.

 

“How does them being elevated change anything?” Hans beamed confidently. “Besides, they’ll make you look taller.” Kristoff narrowed his eyes at the surprise, unimpressed. The prince deflated a bit and sighed.

 

“You still can’t smell, can you?” The ice cutter crossed his arms in near defeat at the ulterior motive. Hans nodded again.

 

“Please?” He tempted once more. “Just for tonight?”

 

Kristoff hold his breath, eying the footwear and then Hans. There was no discussing or arguing his way out of it. And as his fiance had said, if he looked taller than he was in a room on ten intimidating royal men, who was he to say no? With a groan and a roll of his brown eyes, he reached for the heeled boots.

 

“Fine.” He groaned. “But after tonight we’re even.”

 

He glared down at the boots now with complete and utter loathing. They’d had a distinct shine to them on the night of their creation. By now all he could see was a warped and ashy reflection, a distant sprinkle of black dust gathering around the soles, wear and tear now obvious from all the running he’d been doing and the distance from his fiance. With a disgusted grunt he took them off and continued walking, not willing to take the chance of Hans finding him through some sort of tracking with his powers. The absolute last thing he wanted now was human company. There was only one thing that would make him feel better about tonight.

 

He couldn’t exactly explain his attraction to the reindeer that lived in the stables with Olaf. Sven was a timid creature, and although his backstory hadn’t been entirely explained or known to Hans upon his purchase, there was a feeling of connection he got from him that seemed almost like a product of fate. It was almost as if he’d known him his whole life and only just been reintroduced. While Kristoff wasn’t nearly as eccentric as Elsa was with her conversations, time went on and soon after he found himself picking up that exact habit.

 

It was somewhat exhilarating-- as if a missing part of him had awoken with the reindeer. If anything, it reminded Kristoff of the days when his father would take them both into town and let him pet the reindeers that were herded while he himself dealt his ice and bargained for tools. It reminded him of a simpler time before he’d even met Hans and their story had begun. In a way, Sven made him forget palace life which for the moment, was a thing he was more than happy to forget.

 

The warm late spring air was humid and the sound of thousands of humming cicadas distant in the many trees and forests to the south. The doors to the palace slammed shut and the walk down to the stables was uneventful. The comforting heat of the late night was a feeling he relished and often forget existed beneath the stuffy starched collars he was forced to wear. He shed his suit jacket and carried it over one arm, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. He cast a quick glance at the black suit jacket and tossed it behind him, still far too angry to be bothered by it a moment longer. The stables sat quietly in the distance, a lantern on inside.

 

When he opened the door his stripped off his socks and left them in wrinkled balls on the hay strewn floor. Sven quickly awoke from his nap and bucked at the confines of his own cage, and Kristoff quickly obliged. The massive furry beast bounded out of his pen and ran his massive pink tongue up his face and made quick work of the pigs fat in his blonde hair. Any other day the ice cutter would’ve scolded him as he was hardly in the mood to play, but tonight he didn’t care and frankly found himself patting the reindeers muzzle for doing him a service and fixing his hair.    

 

“Thanks buddy.” He sighed and walked over to the water trough, washing out the lard and shaking his soaking locks to dry them back to the comfortable mess he always preferred. Sven seemed to notice his owners distress and brayed with understanding.

 

That was another thing Kristoff loved about Sven and reindeers in general. They always were incredibly emotional and not shy about expressing it. While he’d always had his father’s horse, Fannar was hardly the companion Sven would’ve been in those days alone.

 

The massive reindeer then laid down in a bed of hay that was in the corner of the stables, and after a moment Kristoff took to joining him, lounging on the creatures soft underbelly and giving absolutely no care as to the condition his clothes were in.    

 

“ _What’s wrong, Kristoff?_ ” He questioned to himself, knowing that there was no chance of anyone finding him out there as Elsa, Pedar, and Olaf were out in the village for the night.

 

Kristoff groaned, smacking a palm to his forehead. “I just don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into.” He frowned at the door, imagining Hans barging through it and rolling his eyes.

 

“ _You can tell me what’s wrong though, right?_ ” Sven grinned at him, fluttering his lashes bashfully in a manner that made Kristoff chuckle softly.

 

“I didn’t know you were a physiatrist.” He feigned surprise to which the reindeer nodded. “Well, it has to do with Hans. More specifically his brothers.”

 

The ten brothers had arrived one by one throughout the day with the exception of the twins. Hans, still preparing and up to his neck in details for the wedding, was unable to see them as they arrived and Thomas simply had them shown their staterooms while Kristoff threw himself into his work and tried to pretend that the ten other men weren’t walking the same halls and eating at the same table he was. While both men’s reasons for avoiding them were understandable, both on a sensory level knew they were simply looking for excuses to avoid any more time than allotted with any of them. Aside from Thomas and Erik, Hans never saw much in any of his other brothers and Kristoff had yet to have a borderline positive interaction with any of them.

 

After Erik’s untimely death, William had been the next in line to inherit the throne. However he, like many of his other siblings, saw their kingdom as a lost cause in the face of Hans’ heatwave and left unannounced by means of land travel. William was more or less as level headed, if not more so than his older brother. While the former king could go off at the drop of a hat, William was more level headed and kept his darker black hair combed and neat as Thomas did. His only true fault was his tendency to be too neutral, a trait which his mother often worried wasn’t meant for ruling a powerful nation. He’d married uneventfully to a princess from a neighboring western kingdom after attempting to court princess Anna of Arendelle and had four princesses and a recent prince.

 

Alexandar, to put it simply, was inconsiderate. He was the spoiled third in line that nobody wished to willingly spend time with. He often was misguided in his sick little mind and sought to take advantage of his ‘princely’ status by ensuring those forced to serve him were more miserable than he secretly was. Kristoff had witnessed his boorish behavior firsthand as the child of a frequent visitor to the palace, and was often mistreated and incorrectly identified as a servant when he was merely a normal person. Of course, this hardly absolved him of having to follow a royals orders, but Alexandar was of a particularly bad child compared to his brothers. His mother had simply never held the energy within her to give him all the attention or discipline he so desperately craved, and so he often targeted Hans as he was the smallest and weakest. It was to both men clearly a case of jealousy. He’d settled with an equally snobbish duchess and had two sons and a daughter.

 

Nathan, the fourth in line, was often the first to acknowledge his lack of interest in ruling anything bigger than a palace event. He was a quiet soul who spent his days beside Thomas hidden in the deep recesses of the library, nose smudged into books. He rarely courted and upon his departure from the palace he’d taken one of the carriages as well as Erik’s horse and hadn’t been seen since. Thomas only managed to locate him through a letter and found he was happily living on one of the many isthmuses around the country as a book trader and had formally abdicated his place in line. He was also one of the only brothers who declined their invitation to the wedding.

 

Prince Harold had joined the fourth prince in his escape and managed to put his practiced charm and handsome physique to worm his way through the islands aristocracy and married to the daughter of a wealthy merchant with business overseas. Hans laughed at the fate his older brother had managed to secure, knowing he was a manipulative person and doubted his intentions for his bride were sincere. Rumors held that she was already with a child.  

 

Roger and Richard were the only set of twins born to the queen through her many husbands. They were both combat savvy from guards and sported their fathers ginger hair and while Roger had chosen to marry a neighboring princess Richard had chosen to elope the night he and his brother fled to the Western Isles with one of the servants of the palace. They remained in the Western Isles, and both brothers had recently had their first set of twins each.  

 

Anders, or Drew, as he preferred to be called, was a raven haired beauty whose womanizing ways had earned him a record of infamy within the circles of the surrounding kingdoms. He was condescending towards Hans and his other brothers, often bragging of his romantic pursuits and brandishing his latest golden hearted girl like a prized trophy that would be broken, used, and abandoned. While he was certainly not the worst towards the fire prince, his lifestyle had earned him little in the way of respect from his family and Thomas in particular had been reluctant to extend the invitation towards him-- especially after he’d decided to take the opportunity as an excuse to show off his latest fling whose name had yet to be mentioned.

 

Elsa had decided to take Olaf and Pedar out on the town for the sake of her sanity and because of the princes pathetic attempts to rekindle their failed romance. She hardly wanted to dignify the ninth prince with any form of kindness after he’d rudely brushed off her coldness and flash of an engagement ring. He’d left soon after that with a death threat from Pedar to never go near his wife again.

 

John was one of the harsher brothers towards Hans and rarely allowed him a moment’s peace. As his father had died shortly after his birth, Alexandar had been his primary fatherly figure-- to which nearly everyone would’ve objected. This gave him a sense of resentment towards the thirteenth prince that for the most part was unjustified. He was too far down the line to be concerned with ruling and he received decent attention from almost everyone. However, shortly after the heatwave ended, his resentment towards Hans resolved without an older influence and the two slowly worked at repairing their relationship. Of course, they never truly mended the broken bonds and John left the palace shortly after the heatwave under command of the Southern Isles Navy who were scouting the seas to the north.

 

Lance was a larger man, born eleventh out of thirteenth, and to a king consort that stayed around long enough to raise him, was an honorable man. He out of everyone was the most neutral and in some cases sympathetic to his youngest brother, and after the heatwave took to his hobby in veterinary medicine. He worked in the stables for a few years before eloping and moving out with a young woman from a middle class home in Corona. He also politely turned down the invitation as his wife was set to give birth to their first within a week.  

 

The twelfth brother and thought to be final Southern Isles prince was Graham. He was a full head taller than Hans and followed between John and Lance in terms of his morality as his father had died shortly after Lance’s fifth birthday and had always been close to his full brother, even choosing to leave to his father's place of birth in the Western Isles. He also left with a male lover who’d been unknown to everyone else prior to his departure, but as of recently the topic had yet to be brought up with Thomas or anyone and from the attitude coupled with a withering frown it was obvious he didn’t wish to speak of his relationship. He even seemed soured watching Kristoff and Hans together, as if it somehow made him jealous. All he’d said was that he’d settled down with a bride who was described as ‘lovely, most of the time’ and no one thought that description needed elaboration.

 

It was certainly a ragtag bunch of men, and frankly Hans thought it was a miracle he’d been able to get them all in one room sipping tea without any tension for more than ten minutes. Thomas had offered to join them if only to keep their brothers from going too far, but Hans politely requested he stay out of the meeting, wanting to handle it as best as he could.

 

“So,” Harold broke a moment of silence as Gretta went round and poured tea into the eleven porcelain cups. “I’m sure _some_ of us need to be reminded as to why we’re here.” He eyed Drew and the willowy thin girl with slight annoyance.

 

Drew leveled a glare at the fifth prince and the girl’s beady eyes narrowed at the rug in red-faced embarrassment. It had become clear moments earlier Drew had neglected to mention the reason of their attendance to his girlfriend and obviously she was confused and bothered by having to ask that question when everyone else knew what she didn’t.

 

“I forgot to tell Maria everything, Harold. Big deal,” He clasped a gloved hand around her bare shoulder, the salmon straps of her evening gown bunched around her upper arms. She turned back and frowned at the prince, obviously not in the mood for comfort. “At least some of us have pure intentions.”

 

Harold laughed confidently and three of the brothers quickly followed. “Please, at least we don’t shove our parts where they don’t belong with every bar wench in the country!”

 

The girl’s eyes opened wide and her mouth opened in slight shock as Drew’s face drained and his mouth puckered. His pupils shrunk into two brown dots as Maria shuffled away from him on the loveseat, arms crossed and offended. Apparently Drew had failed to mention his past to his flavor of the week courtier.

 

Hans groaned from where he sat in one of the armchairs opposite the stoned-faced Drew and tugged at the gloves in anticipation. This wasn’t a good way to start the meeting and Kristoff hadn’t even showed up yet.

 

“Everyone, calm down. This isn’t why we’re all here.” William raised a hand in the air as if the motion automatically silenced the boarish humor of the eight other men. It did seem to have effect, and in moments the focus was on the second eldest, who cleared his throat and simply gestured to Hans who had his arms crossed expectantly and Harold’s laughter quickly became uncomfortable chuckling before dying with a cough and forced smile.

 

Hans cast a nod his eldest brothers way. “Thank you, William. Now, I figured Thomas would’ve mentioned the reason we all called you here on his invitations, but I’ll state the reason again strictly to set the record straight.”

 

“You mean set the record _gay,_ of course.” Richard whispered to his twin and Roger sent him a withering scowl in return. Hans rolled his eyes.

 

“And thank you, Richard, for making that statement.” The prince tried to keep the deadpanning sarcasm from his tone. “Before we get any further yes, my partner-to-be is a man. I need you all to understand that and accept it. Otherwise, you’re more than free to get out of this palace because believe me,” He slid one of his gloves off and sparked a flame in his palm. “I’m more than capable of ensuring it.”

 

There was no response other than varied degrees of uneasiness. Hans grinned widely.

 

“Good.” He clapped and the flame snuffed out. “Now that that’s out of the way let’s get down to business. This evening was planned so you all could meet my groom before the wedding, and I know I sound every bit like mother by telling you all to be on your best behavior, but _some_ of you,” He eyed Alexandar. “I feel could use the warning.”

 

Graham narrowed his gaze at Hans. “Are you going to tell us anything about him? We’ve never seen him on any of our visits.”

 

“Yeah,” Richard piped up. “Don’t leave us totally in the dark, brother. What’s he look like?”

 

Hans sighed. “He’s about Lance’s size, blonde hair, brown eyes.”

 

“Come on Hans, we need more details than that.” Roger gave him a telling grin. “What’s he really like?”

 

Unsure if the elder twin meant anything more within that question, Hans cleared his throat and clenched his gloved fists a bit tighter. “He’s stubborn, that’s for sure. He… he....” The prince found himself without words, realizing his occupation heavily defined his fiance and he hadn’t told any of them that Kristoff was a commoner. Realizing he drawing suspicion, Hans said the first thing that came to mind. “He can be a bit uncouth at times. You know, he’s the rugged type.”

 

Various responses and nodding came from all sides of the study. Drew cocked his head. “How is he in bed, dear brother?”

 

Hans flushed red and the room grew warmer. Of _course_ they were bound to get to that topic eventually, but that didn’t mean the prince felt any more comfortable answering it. He could see Graham with his hand pressed into his forehead as if he wished to be disassociated with his older brother. The smirk Drew had grew as if he had sized up an answer without a verbal response.

 

“How much longer are we going to play this guessing game, Hans? He _is_ coming to meet us, right?” Graham said after a moment of awkward silence and lowering his hand.

 

The fire prince shook himself from his shock and he felt somewhat numb. His eyes snapped over to the clock, the minute hand slowly gliding across the face of the grandfather clock. It hadn’t even been fifteen minutes and already he was jaded and exhausted from conversing about Kristoff when he was still waiting outside in his pimped up attire. They could sell that he was royalty material, right?

 

“Yes.” Hans answered and stood up. “I’ll be right back.” And within five seconds he’d closed the door, leaning against it and breathing out a heavy sigh.

 

Peasants marrying into the Southern Isles royal family were met with harsh criticism. Hans hadn’t witnessed it yet firsthand but Thomas had told him the stories that plagued those few men their mother had married who were not of blue blood. Most of the men had been highly scrutinized with each step they took and every word they spoke. The tabloids and newspapers dug deep into their histories and made even the tiniest mistakes an overblown accusation of treason or some other nonsense, and oftentimes Maren could do nothing to stop free press or to shield her husbands from the rumors. The father of the twins had even been the victim of pornography with another woman who many said was a mistress, and the gossip followed him even past his own funeral.

 

Nathan and Richard had both married women of lesser status who weren’t fully accepted, but their lives seemed to be overshadowed by Hans’ destructive heatwave which at the time was all anybody cared to talk about. With the opening of the gates and the exodus of ten princes, the gossip and rumors following them quickly trickled out as they joined other kingdoms out of the public eye.

 

But this wasn’t a conventional union. It was the least accepted form in every way it could be. Everyone knew that Hans the Kristoff were courting save for the eight princes, but from the things Elsa and Kristoff had caught in their days outside of the palace, it seemed rather clear that nobody expected the courtship to last. The ice cutter had even heard some of his colleagues in the ice fields saying that the prince would eventually ‘come to his senses’ and pick an eligible maiden from among the massive pool. To them both, the real troubles were only as distant as the city outside the palace walls.

 

In the absolute worst case scenario, Hans knew it would involve choosing between Kristoff and his birthright. And while he didn’t want to explore either of those options, the choice wasn’t that simple.

 

He didn’t know if any of them would understand what he would be facing. Even Richard and Graham didn’t have the complete experience under their belt-- only fragments of what could’ve been.

 

“Rough time?” Kristoff rounded the corner, apparently waiting a hallway to the side as if to avoid anyone seeing him in his sleek navy blue suit.

 

Hans released a mirthless laugh. “Rough wouldn’t even begin to describe them. I figured I’d be able to keep them from poking too far but apparently they have other ideas.”

 

“You know it’s not too late to call this whole meeting off.” Kristoff reminded him and Hans cracked a smile.

 

“I take it you’re not looking forward to this either?” He raised an auburn eyebrow knowingly.

 

Kristoff seemed to falter slightly, tugging at the collar of his suit. “No, not really.”

 

Hans sighed again. “I guess I should’ve seen that coming. If you want I can just make some excuse-”

 

“I didn’t say that, Hans. I’m still going to do this; don’t take what I said the wrong way. The heels aren’t really helping my feet, but just because I’m a bit uncomfortable doesn’t mean I’m letting you go back there without any proof of a fiance. Chances are they’d think you lied or something.”

 

The prince looked the iceman up and down. “Is that really how you think they’d react?” Kristoff shrugged.

 

“What else can I expect? From what I’ve seen and heard your brothers aren’t exactly easy on you.” He stated matter-of-factly.

 

Hans placed a hand on his shoulder. “Well you’re right. But hopefully with you around they’ll learn to listen.” Kristoff wanted to say he didn’t think Hans needed him to persuade his brothers of anything. Had he not been wearing the gloves the point would’ve been much sharper. If anything this meeting was just proving how capable his fiance was and how useless he felt.

 

“And just in case I’m not enough, those gloves really don’t go with your outfit.” The ice cutter remarked as Hans placed a hand on the door. The prince sent him a devious smirk and opened the door, the study having cooled off from when he’d risen and left to fetch Kristoff.

 

As his brown eyes scanned the rather large study, his gaze ran past each of the different princes. Some he recognized, some he didn’t. A few of the men seemed slightly taken aback at his imposing height and his features, as if he seemed familiar but nobody could exactly pinpoint where they’d seen him. Kristoff chose to avoid looking directly at Alexandar, the third princes treatment of him in their pasts a chapter he wanted to forget. Hans cleared his throat and introduced his fiance, a gloved hand wrapping around his back as if purely to showcase his overall size. Graham even looked for a moment as if he wanted to stand simply to see the difference between them and if his brothers descriptions were true.

 

While those damned heels still hurt, Kristoff had to admit he did feel more confident in the face of eleven pairs of eyes. But behind his small smile the defences were still paper thin, and within moments of his introduction, Alexandar was the first to speak.

 

“Kristoff Bjorgman, as in the _ice harvester_?” He seemed less than impressed. While he flushed and forced himself to smile a little harder, Hans narrowed his gaze.

 

“Yes, the ice harvester. I’m sure some of you remember him from his days in the palace.” Hans quickly began to look between his siblings as if searching for some kind of sign that they were displeased other than Alexandar who was a severe thorn in everyone’s side to begin with.

 

“Just how long has this been going on, Hans?” Richard was the first to break the long silence that followed.

 

It felt almost as if they were being… protective. It was a foreign idea to the fire prince. “Please, Richard, we’ve known each other since childhood.”

 

“I knew that.” Roger and Richard managed to state at the exact same time, and the younger twins gave an annoyed glance to his brother. “I mean how long have you both been courting?”

 

“Around eight months,” Kristoff answered. He could tell Hans was taking careful notice of everyone’s scrutinizing gazes and seemed anxious of them.

 

The amount of time they’d been courting wasn’t as long as it had seemed to them and everyone else. The seasons had barely slipped by and the holidays were uneventful what with him working the days away in the ice fields and Hans busy perfecting his powers. It was still a far cry better than a one night proposal, but both of them seemed to realize the connection that was being made throughout the room to the eight men of varying ages.

 

After all, Katharine and Erik had courted for years, and yet the formers motivation for power and revenge were all the same and always there deep down. She’d known of his connection to Hans for the years she’d been in the palace. He and the deceased queen were only three years apart in age at the time of the eternal heatwave. She had been as penniless as he was. As innocuous as he was.

 

“Who’s to say that’s long enough?” Graham raised a brow. “How do you know this is something that will last?”

 

Hans drained. “Who are you to say, Graham.” He seemed livid as to realizing the accusation the twelfth prince was making. “Is it lasting for you and your wife?”

 

Graham seemed to boil beneath the surface of his thinner skin, blood coursing through his veins. It was obvious he wanted to retort something, but his lips remained still, if clenched between two rows of white teeth. William’s eyes widened.

 

“Hans,” He frowned. “These are perfectly valid concerns. I mean friendship and love are two very different things.”

 

The fire prince seemed agitated. “Why am I hearing this from you?”

 

“Because we don’t know what he wants.” Alexandar rolled his eyes. “For all we know he’s no different than Katharine was.”

 

“Excuse me?!” Kristoff gaped at the brunette prince in angry shock, his hands clenching into fists. The room began to warm and Maria whipped out a large paper fan, trying to ignore the heated conversation of the other men. Drew, on the other hand, seemed like he couldn’t get enough.

 

“For all we know he’s after the throne like she was,” He seemed to say so only to aggravate his younger brother. Kristoff could see the glowing of embers in the heart of Hans’ fists. Both of them seemed to be losing patience and neither seemed aware of it.

 

“I’m nothing like her.” The ice cutter seethed, one of his hands roping around the thirteenth princes wrists in a desperate attempt to keep him from unleashing his powers despite the fact that they were getting to be more and more deserving of it.

 

Most of them excluding William, Maria and Richard seemed unconvinced at his claim. Graham seemed particularly miffed. John and Alexandar gained a pair of sinister grins, and Drew cast a glance to the side before leaning forward as if glad to continue insulting the lesser of the two. Kristoff narrowed his gaze threateningly as smoke began to emanate from the prince’s covered hands.

 

The third prince sneered confidently. “You’ve lived in squalor all your life with that father of yours.” The ice cutters glare faltered, a lump rising in his throat. “I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want to improve your life.”

 

Alexandar could tell he was getting to him and the sneer grew. “Your father arrived to this country alone, didn’t he? That man couldn’t have raised a bastard like you right all by himself. What’s to make street peasant like you worthy of royalty? What makes you worthy to be sitting here with any of us?”

 

Hans looked practically volatile. John noticed this. “What makes you or your _fleas_ worthy of even looking at us?”

 

Kristoff couldn’t say anything. There were plenty of examples that made him perfectly worthy of Hans, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to respond. He felt numb beneath the anger towards the eight other men. Almost all of the brother were hurling insults and slurs left and right now-- but the ice cutter couldn’t hear a word of it while Hans grew redder and redder. William looked as if he were about to intervene but Alexandar silenced his older brother with a glare and a stomp on his foot. Rishard was hiding behind his hands, groaning. Maria was struggling to keep her face hidden behind her fan.  

  

Suddenly Drew held up a hand. “Everyone, stop! This has gone on far enough.” His voice cut through the commotion. He lowered his hand and reached for his saucer of tea. “Brothers, I think it’s time we put all this aside and just,” He paused and scanned the room, his other hand relaxing on his girlfriend's leg. “Toast to this occasion.” He looked at the tea and frowned, as if disappointed alcohol hadn’t been served in an unconventional method.

 

Surprisingly, Alexandar was the first to follow, then William and John held their cups up. The motion quickly spread around to the eight princes. Hans seemed to deflate, the room cooling and both of them completely lost of to this sudden show of what amounted to respect.  

 

Drew focused his famous blue eyes directly on the ice cutter. “You’re made to fuck our brother, the weakest of us all. So congratulations,” Drew grinned slyly. “It’s a pleasure to know he found himself a useful toy.”

 

Kristoff didn’t recall saying anything in response. All he could remember past that point was the cold shivers and beads of sweat that began to pour from his face; the satisfied smirk on that pompous prince as he stormed out of the study, and that his fiance paler than a baby calf. He was so blinded by that rage he didn’t even bother to turn around and see if Hans had lost his temper yet. He didn’t care. If Hans murdered each and every one of them, there was nothing he could say in their defense. If Thomas found their smoked asses printed on the walls, he wouldn’t offer anything other than a glare at their memories.

 

He couldn’t bear to listen to what they’d said any longer, especially the one who’d done nothing to stop it-- and the one who’d told them they were having sex.

 

Sven blinked. “ _But that doesn’t mean the wedding is off, right?_ ” Kristoff brayed.

 

“I don’t know buddy. But I’m definitely feeling less enthusiastic.” He crossed his arms and shut his eyes, weary from explaining the whole conversation to Sven especially when he was hardly in a tolerable mood.

 

“ _But you know he didn’t want this to happen._ ” Sven countered, raising an eyebrow.

 

The ice cutter glared softly at the reindeer. “Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?” The massive creature shrugged and he sat up a bit straighter. “Look Sven, I’ve already been grilled tonight about being poor, being a tool, being _nothing_ . The _last_ thing I want to hear right now is you playing devil's advocate.”  

 

“I’m surprised he is.” A voice came from the cracked open door. “After all he is yours.” Hans stood in the doorway to the stables with his discarded black jacket draped over his forearm.

 

Kristoff, despite not wanting to, looked at him, arms still crossed. “I’m not going back in there.” He answered. “And I don’t care what you think you can say to change my mind.”

 

“You don’t, do you?” Hans smiled teasingly but Kristoff’s glare made the grin melt back into his cheeks where they’d originated. “They’re gone. Each and every one of them.”

 

He snorted. “I take it you had a hand in that?” Noticing the prince's lack of gloves.

 

Hans nodded, glancing at his bare hands with quiet, subtle confidence. “I did; and I know you’re not coming back with me. I wouldn’t blame you at all.” He sighed. “After what they said, I just-” Kristoff held up a hand to stop him, but it was obvious he wasn’t interested.

 

“You weren’t listening to a word I said, were you?” He stared up at him. Hans opened his mouth to respond, but the iceman cut him off. “You weren’t listening to anyone tonight.”

 

The prince looked confused, and Kristoff sighed. “Hans, we promised we’d go through with this wedding with people giving us crap. We promised to be there for eachother. And I knew that your brothers were bad, but I didn’t think for a second that they would be this much trouble. But I’m not even that angry with most of them.”

 

“Look, Kris--” He cut him off, face red.

 

“So now you have something to say?” He snapped. “Now after they were done insulting me? That’s exactly my point, your highness. They kept trying to bring me down and all you did was sit there. They insulted my father, my profession, my status,” He shook his head and felt a mirthless chuckle leave his lips. “But I have to say, the cherry on top was you telling them about our sex life. Now how did Drew know about that?”  

 

The prince drained and bit his lip, and the ice cutter huffed. “Behold, the prince is silent.”

 

Hans glared. “Kristoff I didn’t tell them anything about that, I swear.”

 

He didn’t seem at all convinced. “Like I believe that. It looked like Drew knew all too well about us.”

 

“I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve known him my whole life. Drew made that conclusion because when he asked me I didn’t say anything.”

 

Kristoff stared at the thirteenth prince, looking between Sven and him. His brown pupils were narrowed but the frown lessened. A period of silence passed between the three souls in the stables only broken by the hum of cicadas outside. “That doesn’t change my mind, Hans.”

 

“I know it doesn’t, but I don’t know what else to say.” He sighed with partial defeat.

 

The iceman groaned and propped himself up. “An apology would be nice.” He answered with sarcasm.

 

Hans grew red. “Look, I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear? I was wrong to dress you up and have you meet my family. I’m sorry this was such as strain on you, alright?” His tone seemed to grow snide.

 

“What’s wrong,” Kristoff began to regret his previous tone in almost demanding an apology when that wasn’t really what he wanted from the prince.

 

“Kristoff, neither of us wanted this to happen the way it did, I think that much is clear. But do you realize how difficult this was for me to pull off for as long as I did? You don’t know my brothers like I do. You’ve been hurt by them before, but it’s nothing compared to the treatment they gave me the minute I was alone and without protection. On top of what they said, I was forced to hold my powers in when it was the last thing I wanted. And even when they were insulting you, all I could do was try to keep them under control.” He rubbed his palms together slowly, stray sparks drifting to the dirt floor.

 

“Hans, I shouldn’t have asked for an apology like that. But why did you keep those gloves when you know you didn’t need to?” Kristoff shifted on the bed of hay.

 

Hans laughed softly. “Honestly, I don’t know. I thought it was about trying to level the playing field. I figured it would help them trust me more, after what I’d done to make them abandon this place.”

 

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. “This might sound stupid, but why do you care? Your brothers hate you, Hans. They hate me, at least; that much they’ve made clear.”

 

He sighed and leaned against the wall, his back pressed to the white paneled wood. “Because I thought we were adults. I mean I wasn’t looking forward to this, but Thomas wanted to make an effort to reconnect. We’re low on political alliances, and on top of that they’re still family. I guess I thought things had changed.” He rolled his eyes. “How naive of me, I know.”

 

A stretch of silence passed between the three of them, and Kristoff found himself getting up. “So, his hands drifted to his hips. “How bad are the burns?”

 

“On my brothers?” A devious smirk lit up his face. “Not extensive. Thomas would have my head if I really hurt them.”

 

“And really, how ‘gone’ are they?” He questioned.

 

“Most of them ran off after my explosion.” Hans seemed to admit. “But Richard and William managed to calm me down. I figured they hadn’t done much to deserve that, but Richard decided to leave on his own accord. Guess he wasn’t interested in risking being branded.”

 

Kristoff wasn’t exactly sure how to feel. “And William?”

 

“He’s staying, if only for the next few days. As for the others, I know Alexandar, John, and Harold have shoved off and nobody’s seen Drew. They’re all packing their bags though, whether they like it or not.” He lit a flame on his finger and extinguished it quickly, and gaze fell to Kristoff’s bare feet.

 

Kristoff cleared his throat. “Those things hurt like hell. They’re probably back in one of those hallways. I’m sorry.”

 

Hans rolled his eyes. “I should’ve expected as much. After you broke my nose, I guess we’re even now. Unless you want to hold this against me?”

  
“Nah.” The ice cutter shrugged and planted a kiss on his fiance’s cheek. “You’ll make it up to me soon.” He grinned as his hands began to snake towards the prince’s back, and Hans began to fondle with his pants. Sven could only watch with wide eyes before shutting them modestly for the rest of the warm summer night.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't feeling up to a sex scene, sorry.


End file.
